Rover 216: Pass the bucket or bouquet?
Car enthusiasts have enjoyed a long and established relationship with the world of television. There can’t be many car lovers who haven’t fancied themselves as Bodie or Doyle behind the wheel of a Capri, or Gene Hunt as he fires up the Quattro with ‘Bolly’ by his side. Or perhaps it’s Inspector Morse in his Jag, Michael Knight in KITT or Starsky’s Ford Torino. Admit it, there’s a TV car you’ve always fancied driving.
But just how many of you have fancied taking the role as Richard from Keeping Up Appearances, the long running BBC sitcom from the early 90s? No, me neither, but I’m sure there’s literally one person who may have fancied touring the streets with Hyacinth Bucket, (pronounced Bouquet), or visiting her brother-in-law, Onslow. One of the show’s ‘highlights’ was watching as Hyacinth played the role as the world’s worst backseat driver, shouting commands at the downtrodden Richard as he nervously made his way around town. Central to this part of the show was an immaculately kept Rover 216 (SD3). Just how many of these do you see today?
The Rover 216 was the perfect car for Hyacinth. Quintessentially British, despite its Honda underpinnings, the 216 was the car for those who fancied something more up market than the Maestro or Montego. It’s probably aged better than the Maestro, has successfully passed through Bangerdom and is today, dare I say it, almost collectable.
Stick a copy of the Daily Express on the back seat, a tartan rug on the rear parcel shelf and a National Trust sticker on the rear window to complete the look. Then head to the coast to sip tea from your Thermos as you gaze out to sea, before heading back to your bungalow for David Dickinson’s Real Deal. You’ll be living the dream and you know it.
But these things are getting rare, so it was somewhat surprising to find not one, but two suitable cars that will allow you to play the role of Richard. All you need to do now is find yourself a Bucket…
First up is this time-warp (cliché!) Rover 216 SE. For sure, it’s a slightly different shade of blue, but with only one elderly owner from new and just 25,000 miles on the clock, it fits the Keeping Up Appearances role perfectly.
It comes with every MOT from new, an unused spare tyre in the boot and the original bill of sale. What’s more, it has some authentic scrapes and scratches on the bumper. Perfect.
At the time of writing this post, the bidding was only up to £165 with under three days to go. Surely worth a punt? Check out the eBay ad here.
Alternatively, if you fancy the same shade of blue, but can live without the 1.6 litre engine, how about a 213? This one has no MOT or tax, but it does come with a typically low mileage of 31,000 and looks pretty honest in the photos. The price is on application, but is apparently perfect for ‘those who admire the Rover’.
If you’re worried about the lack authenticity, what with this being a 213 and not a 216, I’m sure you could find a replacement badge on eBay. Hyacinth wouldn’t mind a bit of badgering if it meant she was keeping up with the neighbours. Check out the ad here.
But if playing the part of Richard is not for you, why not relive some ‘classic’ moments from the show itself. The Rover is quite the star!
Featured image courtesy of IMCDb.
14 Comments
Gav, nice write up. Despite my MX5, I’ve always hankered after the 216 convertible they did, but it’s got to have: 1.4i engine, power hood, grey leather, in the metallic blue & original alloys. Was apparently good for 40mpg. Find me a mint one of those and you’ve got a deal…
That sounds like a challenge, TIm!
I love cars like this from the eighties! Rover 216s, Ford Orions, Volvo 340s etc. Just because cars like this aren’t ‘cool’ means that we have to ensure, for future generations they survive. How many like the two examples in the article above have been lost to the scrappage scheme? I would buy them both, If i were not a poor student! P.S.: Did they ever do a Vitesse version? If so, how rare would they be now?
You sounds like a man after my own heart!
They did indeed do a Vitesse version, of which only 11 are left on the road. A rather handsome beast it was too http://img484.imageshack.us/img484/9898/sd3rover216vitesseefigreen1yi.jpg
Had a royal blue 213 as my second car *ahem* years ago. I seem to remember the 1.3 was a Honda engine and 1.6 was Rover? Anyway it was dull, bland and boring but as a vehicle to fulfil the car’s brief of an object to convey one from A to B it was great. Simple enough, utterly reliable and comfortable with amazing Philips ‘ICE’!
Come to think of it these should be prescribed instead of valium.
Ha! A Rover 213 on prescription – now there’s a thought!
Driving a 213/216 needn’t be devoid of excitement. It wasn’t for me.
Way back in the early 90s, my then employers – who clearly didn’t like me – gave me a brace of Rover 213s as company cars. The first one – a manual – wasn’t so bad, or it would have been if it wasn’t for it’s unerring ability to indulge in close encounters with other cars while it was stationary.
The first bump came in about December ’92 in central Glasgow. I was minding my own business in a queue of cars at a junction when the reversing lights of the car in front came on. I checked my mirrors, thinking it might be a good idea in order to check it was clear to reverse. My mistake was to assume that the driver of the car in front would have done the same. How silly of me…………………………………….
The car was repaired, but my employers needn’t have bothered. Four months later, I was sitting at a busy roundabout, handbrake on, waiting for traffic from a motorway slip road to clear it when a large van became over-familiar with my car’s boot. The 213 still drove after this bump and now had the added advantage of being able to fit into smaller parking spaces.
My employers, obviously disappointed that I was still in one piece, now played their Joker: they gave me the keys to another Rover 213. This one, an automatic, had clearly been built from the remains of World War 2 Zero fighters. I was so glad that I never had to drive past a berthed US aircraft carrier…………………………………..
Nothing improved my driving abilities to the extent that this car did – I learned how to drive with no brakes, steering that turned the wheels in inverse proportion to my inputs, and tyres that were smoother than Kojak’s pate.
My employers, clearly increasingly frustrated by my continuing survival, now enlisted the aid of their ‘ace’ mechanic. Having been entrusted with sorting out a few problems, including some issues with the automatic gearbox, he returned the car to me, told me that it needed a new speedo cable and I should return it to him the following Monday. On the way home, I pulled out to pass a slow moving lorry. I kept the selector in Drive and floored the throttle. Instead of kicking-down, the ‘box decided that top gear was perfectly fine, thank you, and accelerated oh-so-gently towards the lorry that was now bearing down on me.
When I got home, I had to take a couple of shots of whisky to steady my hand enough to open the bottle of tranquilisers. Come the Monday, the mechanic immediately diagnosed the problem: he’d removed the kickdown cable.
You can have too much excitement. I took the hint; I got a new job.
Ha! Epic tails. Even without direct experience, I’m certain that I would find the 1.3 automatic quite a painful car to live with. When it tries to kill you, I’d reply with a Duncan Bannatyne style ‘I’m oooout’.
I must also add that the Rover 216 also featured in Father Ted as well. Funny episode, look it up on YouTube. I can’t remember if Father Jack had been driving it, but it was ‘modified’ to become a compact Rover (watch the episode and you’ll see!)
Cheers. I’ll take a look.
My first car was a 213. The drains were prone to clogging so you’d frequently get to the first corner on your drive and hear what sounded like a bucket of water being sloshed from side to side coming from the rear footwells.
The floor corroded to nothing – literally in places. Heave up the carpet and you could see through to the ground underneath. When I eventually took it for its dreaded MOT they told me the entire floor was in danger of falling out.
The electric windows didn’t open, the stereo didn’t work, it was impossible to make it secure so I used to leave it unlocked, safe in the knowledge that only the most dedicated choke work could start the damn thing.
I once got it up to about 90mph and you could almost hear the nuts and bolts vibrating out of their housings.
Do I miss it? Not one bit. The engine was not bad if nursed, the transmission was not bad – that’s as much as you could say about it.
Consign it to the dustbin of history, Gav. I for one will not miss it.
I seem to recall you giving me your fond memories of the 213 on a launch this year. Either that or you’ve had two cars that were prone to water sloshing from one side to another?!
So, suitable strapline for the 231 – the Rover 213: it’s not bad, but it’s not good either?!
Mi primer coche fue un Rover 216 de segunda mano. Arrancaba cuando quería, no le funcionaban los elevalunas (¡¡ninguno!!) y no encontraba el tapón de gasolina por ninguna tienda de recámbios. Una puerta trasera jamás se abrió y la otra tenía un agujero del tamaño de Picadilly Circus. Aun así lo recuerdo con cariño ¡¡tenía mucha personalidad!!
[…] I adapted this from a post I made on Petrolblog.com some years ago. It’s a true story. […]